


A Matter of Survival

by BalloonArcade



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: For Science!, Humor, Interspecies Awkwardness, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Short One Shot, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 03:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18003356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalloonArcade/pseuds/BalloonArcade
Summary: Hound has set the stage for his human companions to mate. So why aren't they mating?Aka: Unsuccessfully setting the stage to study another species' mating habits.





	A Matter of Survival

**Author's Note:**

> A short story written on Tumblr as warm-up about Hound making poor inter-species life choices.

After millions of years of devastation and mass extinction on his home world, to Hound, the Earth was like a floating dream. A precious blue and white swirling crystal, polished round and suspended among a back drop of stars in a remote sector. It was practically bursting with life. Everywhere he looked there was something new.

Even in a so called desolate place named “Death Valley.”

Organic species were quite simply, _fascinating_.

Beneath his wheels, he scanned heat signatures of small mammals: curled up and tucked away into their burrows. Within a fifty meter radius around him, Hound scanned nine rabbits and two coyotes. 

Bats flapped overhead, and he watched the sound propagation of their sonar ping off his scanners as they hunted and scooped up insects, all while fine dust particles settled on the exterior of his armor. 

Best of all though, he had two human companions with him, a mated pair. And the reproductive practices of the dominant sentient species on this planet were fascinating to say the least. Hound had downloaded terabytes of their data-files to watch privately on his HUD in his off-hours. 

Humans were just so _tactile_ , and Hound delighted in interpreting every non-verbal communication cue between them: enlarged pupils indicating arousal, increase pheromone levels from their glands, heavy swallowing of their digestive fluids -

And anytime his human companions would hold hands and share affectionate glances between them, Hound would practically melt inside. 

He had had this adventure with them all planned out. Hound’s circuits had been trembling in anticipating the entire drive from Portland.

A meteor burned up in the atmosphere over head, and Hound participated in the human superstition: he made a wish. 

It couldn’t hurt. 

Because despite his extensive research to enact the very specific mating ritual he was after, events weren't happening how he had predicted.

At all.

Mindful of his companion's tripod set up and pointed in his direction - set up to take long exposures of the milky way traversing the night sky - Hound resisted sinking down on his shocks in defeat. If he did, he'd ruin their long exposure and image sequence they planned on compiling and compressing into one image and video file.

But their inactivity didn't make any sense.

Hound had thought that by taking a mated pair of humans out into the wild that he’d have the opportunity to observe their mating habits up close and personal. They had been delighted when he went to Ratchet to have an extra compartment added to his frame: a small, hardshell pop up tent so the two of them could sleep on his roof in comfort. It had taken Hound months to fill out the appropriate paper work to requisition the materials. The proposal of why such an addition to his frame would be beneficial to further human and Cybertronian relations had been a solid veil hiding his primary motives -

The literal observation of human relations.

But now, despite all his hours of behavioral research, he strained his processor to find the variable he had missed.

According to the internet there were countless stories where humans, when forced to huddle together for warmth, inevitably resulted in mating. 

A mating trope: one that apparently he had not executed correctly.

He could feel his human companions now, squirming inside the addition to his frame containing the soft mattress and their nesting material. They moved. They shed their clothing. They curled up, and entwined. Their bodies vibrated, trembled - with anticipation perhaps? They whispered and pressed their noses to each other’s necks. It all seemed right.

But there was no mating. 

Because apparently, all they could talk about was how cold they were and didn’t want to risk letting any of the heat escape from their sleeping bags.

When they finally drifted off into a fitful sleep, Hound did sink slightly on his wheels. 

He didn’t understand.

The mating practice Hound enjoyed watching the most was the one termed a Rom-Com.

And as far as he could tell, he had checked all the right boxes.


End file.
